How I managed to not wet myself laughing is a testament to my years of professionalism.
We all have had them, those sexual vortex clients. The ones when they enter they suck all the sexiness out of the air with their mer presence.
Breast drooling followed by, clitorial scrapings, a warm serving of smash nose into pubic bone in a vain attempt to give me head, to end with a round of the most uncoordinated shagging. When this didn't seem to do the trick, i stopped trying and let him sort it out.
Sweet divine mother of Jesus, what followed was 20mins of watching a man attempt to rip his own dick off whist listening to my sound track. The laughing part came about when Duffy's Mercy came on, and I pretended to hear his penis begging for mercy in a tiny choked little voice. I was bored! By this time, i had lost total interest, and actually caught myself verbalising my weekend list of things to do. This is why we get paid the big bucks!